


pain on pain on play repeating

by VolxdoSioda



Series: Kinktober 2019 [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Kinktober Day 9: Pet Play, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 22:13:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21083927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolxdoSioda/pseuds/VolxdoSioda
Summary: Noctis tries to help Ardyn relax.





	pain on pain on play repeating

It’s been a very long day. Ardyn dearly wishes it was already over, but alas it isn’t, not even close to. Somnus has been on his case for most of the day, going on about this or that complaint from their people, paperwork that needs to be filled out in triplicate ( _ and whoever thought of  _ ** _that _ ** _ little nuance needs to burn in the pits of the Infernian’s own home _ ), meetings that need to be held and appeared at, and the future Founder’s Day celebration which is coming up in a month.

Honestly, even with Regis helping him by taking half the stack for himself, Ardyn thinks he might actually cry if he has to grind out another twelve hours of work somehow without so much as a nap. His spine is certainly killing him, and his left leg is throbbing bad enough to where he swears he feels his heartbeat through it. Somnus might be fine with pushing himself through the grinder, but Ardyn isn’t. So he diverts from the chosen path to his office and heads back towards the streets, where he manages to hail a cab with minimal effort, and directs them towards his home.

It’s only once he’s paid the cab and stumbled through the door that he remembers Noctis is supposed to have today off, and groans. It’s not that he has anything personal against the boy, but his gaming habits are often loud and verbose, and with the day Ardyn has had, such things don’t bode well for his temper. 

Yet there is no sound of imaginary guns being shot, or voices talking into a microphone, or even the background chatter of the TV. The house is mercifully, blissfully quiet. Whether Noctis is just asleep in his bedroom or actually gone out for the day, Ardyn doesn’t care. He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth; he drops the paperwork (ugh) off in his secondary office, and then all but faceplants into the couch with a low groan. 

A nap would be nice, but between the headache pounding away and the line of knotted muscles all along his back, sleep eludes him. He almost does cry then, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes and reminding himself  _ you are two thousand years old and have dealt with days such as this a thousand times, you are not going to cry over bad scheduling and people being assholes.  _

“Ardyn?”

The sigh that comes out of him is defeated and tired and exasperated all in one. He doesn’t meant it that way, because it’s not Noctis’ fault he’s feeling the way it is, and it’s unfair and unkind of him to lash out at one of the few human beings who regularly seek out the pleasure of his company - hell, who have deigned to  _ live  _ with him for damned near seven years now.

“Ah,” Noctis lowers his voice, rounding the corner. He has a cup balanced on a saucer, and a packet of half-eaten biscotti in the other hand. He ducks into the kitchen, and Ardyn can hear the water being run, and the pantry door open and shut quickly, before Noctis returns to the living room, coming to crouch beside him. “Can I get you anything?”

“A new body would be lovely,” he mutters sardonically. Noctis reaches out to take one of his hands between his own, stroking over knuckles and palm with practiced touch. It feels good, and Ardyn finds himself wishing for such a touch over his whole body. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have even a sliver of energy to pursue such thoughts, because inevitably what starts off chaste becomes hungrier between them. 

“Anything else? Cup of tea? Bite to eat?” The touch firms, moving up to his wrist, and then stroking up and down his forearm, easing the tension out of him. 

“Mmn, no thank you. Kind thought.” Up past his elbow, to his shoulder, and Ardyn turns his head and groans as Noctis’ fingers seem to seek out the worst of the knots, digging in with savage enthusiasm. It hurts, but in the best way, and Ardyn can only offer his heartfelt approval for what is being done. 

Noctis strokes over his collarbone in a slower, cautious way that means he’s thinking on something. Ardyn lets him, content to keep the pleasure of his touch for as long as he can. The headache is a little less prominent now, though still present. 

“I, uh,” Noctis says at last. He clears his throat quietly, and offers, “I read something online last night that might help. If you’ll let me…?”

“So long as I don’t need to move,” Ardyn grants. 

“...No, but you might feel better if you got rid of the shirt.”

Ardyn cracks open an eye. “What exactly are you planning, dear heart?”

Noctis is very carefully not looking at him. “It’s not sexual. I mean, it  _ can  _ be? But I’m not gonna make it. Um. Unless you want me to?” He’s looking more and more uncertain the longer he goes on, and Ardyn can tell whatever idea is in his head is quickly becoming thrown under the category of ‘stupid’. 

Bless this foolish boy and his soft heart, Ardyn thinks fondly. “I’m afraid I don't have the energy for that. So in the event this  _ does  _ create some sort of friction, be aware I shan’t be doing anything about it.”

Noctis just nods, and helps him sit up, and wiggle out of his shirt. Gone are the days he wore an elaborate coat and vest and undershirt on a whim; a button up does just as nicely, especially on days like today. 

“Any particular position you want me in?” 

“No, just get comfortable. I’ll take care of the rest.”

So Ardyn settles back into his former position, and Noctis once again starts with his hand, moves up to his arm, but this time he doesn’t stop at the collarbone. His hands curve up to stroke the sides of Ardyn’s neck, and then further up, over his cheeks and next to the bridge of his nose, smoothing over eyebrows and carding through his hair. One long, continuous touch that feeds pleasure into Ardyn’s tired, overworked mind, and begins to gut out some of the pain eating away at him. He shivers when Noctis runs knuckles down the back of his neck, a hungry little noise escaping his throat as he rolls on his side to offer Noctis more room to work. 

Down his spine, rubbing over his shoulder blades, and then back down the length of his back several times when Ardyn pushes back against the motion, silently demanding Noctis pay attention to that particular spot. The pleasure doesn’t build itself, but it doesn’t lessen either at any point, just feeds into itself in a continuous loop that soon as any memory of the pain of his body erased, replaced by a warm, almost fuzzy sensation in his mind. 

It’s almost embarrassing, the length of time it takes for his drunken mind to finally connect the touch and what Noctis is doing to him. Petting. He’s being  _ petted  _ like an animal, and his body is soaking it up, relishing in the attention. He’s always been skin hungry, but he didn’t think  _ this  _ was something that would work on him to such a degree. 

He’ll speak to Noctis about it later. As soon as, perhaps, he wakes up from a nap.

X-x-x-x-x-x-x

“Is it something you’re interested in?”

Ardyn wakes on the couch some five hours later, feeling better rested than he has in a very long while. His first thought is seeking out Noctis to confirm that what happened was actually what happened. Turns out he’s hiding in the kitchen, hunched over a history book, brow furrowed as he digests whatever it is he’s reading. 

Ardyn’s words make him snap to, and his mouth opens and then closes twice before he gets out, “Are you feeling better?”

“Marvelous,” Ardyn answers, and drifts towards the teapot waiting on the stove. The water inside is still tolerably warm, and he makes himself a cup while waiting for Noctis’ reply. “So. Am I correct in assuming the little thing you ‘stumbled across’ last night is in some way related to Animal Roleplay?”

Noctis puts the book aside. “Yeah. I wasn’t intentionally looking for it, but certain aspects of it were… interesting.”

“I’m assuming you’re referring to the non-sexual side of it. Which brings me back to my original question - is it something you’re interested in?”

“Um.” And here they have a throwback to the very few moments of their relationship, the difference in their experience and sexual knowledge. “I don’t really know? Like I said, it seems interesting. But I’m not sure if it’s something that would necessarily get me  _ off,  _ y’know?”

Ardyn nods. “And certain kinks are like that, for some,” he provides. “I know of several people for whom being tied up is more calming than sexual. Or having the power taken from them, being told what to do, is meant to de-stress them, rather than bring them the sexual high.”

“I read that petting could be used to calm your partner down. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try, and if you didn’t like it, I could pass if off as a shitty attempt at massage.” Noctis shrugs, carefully not looking at him. 

“Except we both know that one of the earliest courses you’ve pursued was professional massage, meant to help those going through physical therapy. So that lie would have sailed right over both of our heads. You needn’t be ashamed of your interest, Noctis. I’m not going to throw you to the wolves for being  _ curious.”  _

“I know,” Noctis mumbles. “It’s less your reaction, and more.” He gestures to himself. 

“Coming to terms with your own desires as a human being? Yes, Gods strike you down for having anything like that in you. Whatever would we do if we found out our Prince is a flawed being like the rest of us? For shame.”

Noctis’ cheeks are pink, and he’s fighting back a smile. “Not all of us have been around since the dawn of time, Ardyn. Take pity.”

“And not all of us were born  _ yesterday,  _ Highness,” he drawls back, and smiles when Noctis sticks his tongue out in response. “But I’m serious. If this is something you would like to sprinkle into our interactions now and again, I’ve no qualms about exploring it until you’re satisfied. You know the rules.”

“Do no harm, ask before assuming, don’t write checks your body can’t cash because you think your partner takes priority.”

“Precisely. So.  _ Are  _ you interested?”

“I… wouldn’t mind digging a little deeper. I can’t promise I’ll put on cat ears and a tail for you and bring you dead mice, but. The collar and leashes don’t seem… terrible.”

Ardyn nods slowly. “We need to go shopping for lube soon anyway. We can take a look around then, and perhaps see if anything catches your eye. Or mine.” When Noctis stares at him in disbelief, he adds, “What, you don’t think I haven’t put on a collar or two in my time? Darling please. I’ve yet to replace that lovely little purple number I had several decades ago. Nobody makes them with  _ nearly  _ enough glitter anymore.” 

“We can probably have one custom ordered?” Noctis offers, sounding on the verge of laughter. 

“Mm. Yes, I suppose that will do,” Ardyn replies, fake-haughty and arrogant, and Noctis cracks, burying his face in his textbook as he laughs himself to tears. 


End file.
